


Somnus

by Tulikettu



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau ships them, Blowjobs, Caduceus is real fucking pretty, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreaming, Dreams and Nightmares, Fingering, First Kiss, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Human Genitalia, Size Kink, Slightly - Freeform, Temporary Character Death, The Wildmother is there, in a different dream, in a dream, she totally ships it too, some blood in a dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu
Summary: Fjord isn't good at sleeping, and he's not that great at dreaming when he does. He's been having vivid dreams of losing someone he loves, and it's taking it's toll. Close proximity to one of his clerics seems to help, though. Actually, maybe it's helping a little too much-
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 12
Kudos: 209





	Somnus

**Author's Note:**

> Today is my birthday, and in the tradition of the Hobbits, I'm giving you all a gift! It's this. This fic is the gift. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I'm sure there's more tags I need to add, so please, please let me know if you need me to drop in anymore, and I'm so sorry for missing them. Fjord dreams of Caduceus dying a few times, and the dreams are written out, if that's going to be upsetting then check my other CR fics, they're a lot nicer.

_ Caduceus! Don’t leave me! By our God and everyone elses I love you. Don’t leave me! _

Fjord jolts awake with a gasp, sitting up so quick he feels a twinge in his back. His eyes take a second to adjust to the shapes of bodies curled up in the dim light of the dome, and his chest hurts. A lot. A few more slow breaths steady him, and one hand creeps around to rub the sore spot where he’s pulled a muscle, getting too old for sleeping on floors and making sudden movements.

“You good, man?” 

Beau is sitting almost at his feet, leaning against a rock that happened to find its way into their circumference. She’s watching him, her arms folded around herself, eyes patient. She’s waited for him to calm down before speaking, and Fjord appreciates that a lot. “You still getting those Uk’atoa dreams? I thought they were long gone.”

Fjord shakes his head, looking around again, counting, but everyone is wrapped up and there’s a pile of their bags and it’s difficult. “Is everyone here?”  _ Is Caduceus here? _

“Yeah. All accounted for,” Beau replies quietly, voice calm and soft, watching Fjord as he looks over everyone again.

Fjord finally sags slightly, running his fingers through his growing hair and then scrubbing across his face. 

“Not Uk’otoa?” she asks, crossing her legs to give Fjord a little more room to move around and get comfortable again.

“No, just- you know, throw backs to some of our favourite hell scapes,” he replies, and it’s honest even if he’s chosen to omit a few details. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Beau nods, looking out through the buried of the dome into the darkness and the bleak landscape around them. Save for a rock or two it’s pretty barren, and has been for miles. “I wake up convinced someone else is dead. Properly dead. Molly all over again. I wake up sure that I’m dead, sometimes.”

Fjord runs a hand over his face again and then looks around him once more. Now he’s in less of a panic he can see Caduceus from the shock of his hair, curled up on the far side of the dome. Fjord watches, needing to see the rise and fall of his chest, to know he’s breathing. It’s slow, but it’s there. Steady and peaceful. 

“How did he die?” Beau asks softly, drawing Fjord’s attention back to her. 

“Slowly,” Fjord replies, his voice rougher than he would have liked, but it is what it is. It hurts in his chest still, an ache around his heart. “In my arms.”

“Shit,” Beau breathes out, stretching so that her shoulders pop. “I’m sorry, man. I bet he wouldn’t mind if you woke him up.”

Fjord shakes his head. “It’s stupid. I can’t do that.”

Beau shrugs, not dismissive, just understanding. “Fine. I guess that is kind of a lot.”

His eyes are back on Caduceus, thinking of how the cleric would more than likely just welcome Fjord to his side, maybe put his arms around him, think nothing of them falling asleep together- those kinds of things are so natural to Caduceus he wouldn’t even consider it being taken another way, wouldn’t think that Fjord is just desperate for some kind of contact with him that he can file away for later. Taking advantage of his friend’s good nature in the name of comfort when it’s really more to do with how much he wants that closeness, just to bask in it for a little while. 

“You need help on watch?” he asks Beau at length.

“Can’t hurt.”

  
  
  


Fjord is tired the next day, but it’s fine. It’s another day on the road. For all the magical transportation they have, it’s impossible to know what they’re looking for until they find it. He lags a little way behind the others, looking out over the vast, vast expanses of nothing. It’s not like the sea, where there was always movement even on a still day, and there were usually things to do to keep his brain occupied, not this constant monotony, one step after the other, nothing different, nothing changing.

He wants to ask Caduceus if the Wildmother is here, though nothing seems to grow, but he doesn’t want to ask too many questions. He already thinks he asks too many, he doesn’t want Caduceus to think he’s doubting him or Her. And part of Fjord thinks he should be able to feel Her, he should  _ know _ . 

Even with the sky bright blue above them it does nothing to stop the land looking dead and imposing. 

Caduceus is a few paces ahead of him, his big straw hat pulled down over his head to keep the sun off, his head turning periodically to take in the wasteland all around. Sometimes he looks up at the sky, perhaps for any sign of life. There aren’t even birds here. Just them. 

At one point Frumpkin  _ is _ a bird, and his shape is very conspicuous in the sky, circling. Caleb holds Jester’s shoulder for a few minutes, and comes back to them with the news that everything is as barren as ever in each direction. They’re trekking north. It can only be north. Just a straight line. 

Fjord thinks he might sleep better tonight just for the sheer boredom of their walk and the mental exhaustion of not having anything to stimulate him. It also helps that it’s not even midday and he’s so tired from his disturbed sleep. At least he doesn’t really have to think about where his feet are going, and there’s nothing they need to fight. 

They stop to eat, stop to give themselves something new to look at that isn’t dirt and the backs of heads. They’re used to each others faces but they’ll never really grow tired of looking. There’s comfort in the familiarity, in knowing expressions and looks and the little movements that are characteristic to each of them. 

“I miss the sound of birds,” Caduceus says nonchalantly as he makes them lunch. 

Fjord wants to ask again if he can feel Her here, but again he bites his tongue. 

North again. 

It’s a relief when the sun begins to set and the vast blue is broken up by dark and the spots of stars which are something new to look at. 

Fjord is too restless to sleep first, so he takes first watch despite tiredness settling in his bones. There are no rocks to lean against, so he paces around outside the dome, tries to do some exercise, tries to remember the routine Beau taught him, going through all of his muscle groups. The pain of pushing himself helps a little bit, the burning in his muscles and the ache in his legs from walking all day just to be put through more. Wakes him up and numbs him at the same time. He’d go all night if he could, but Veth wakes up to pee a few hours later and decides to wake Caleb up to take over. Grudgingly, Fjord undoes his bedroll and settles down, curled up to look out across the wasteland. He blinks and then he’s asleep. 

_ Caduceus is in his arms, blood is matting his fur from somewhere Fjord can't see as he frantically tries to find it to stem the bleeding.  _

_ “No, no, Caduceus,” he whimpers. His fingers cup Caduceus’ face trying to get him to look at him, to keep him there with him. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.” He’s trying so hard, he’s trying to heal him, to push his healing magic into his friend but nothing is happening. His fingertips glow blue for a moment and Caduceus winces away. “Please, please don’t leave me. Jester!” Fjord turns to look for the other cleric to help, but they’re alone. There’s no one, nothing for miles. “Please. I love you.” _

_ Caduceus’ eyes close. The light goes out. Fjord thinks his heart physically breaks- _

He gasps, half sitting up, trying to claw in air to his aching lungs. The horizon is starting to lighten. His cheeks are damp. 

“Fjord?”

“Mhm?” his throat hurts, and he manages to run his hand over his face to wipe away the tears before he looks over his shoulders at Caduceus.

The firbolg’s ears are up, but his expression is perfectly calm and open and kind. The low light of the dome illuminates him softly, catching on the fur of his exposed arms and head and gives him a full body halo. 

Breathing becomes a little harder for a different reason. 

“It’s a bit tricky to sleep when there’s so much silence, isn’t it?” Caduceus rumbles gently, giving a pointed look to their surroundings. “Especially when we’re used to so much noise. Stillness is- this kind of stillness is unnatural.”

It’s one of the most scathing things Fjord thinks Caduceus has ever said about anything. He sits up, all of his muscles complaining at the movement and turns inwards, looking around the other sleeping bodies, gaze slowly making its way to Caduceus. 

“Do you feel Her here?” Fjord finally asks. 

Caduceus smiles. “Of course. She’s everywhere,” and then, before Fjord can say anything more. “-even if you don’t feel it. If we needed Her, She’d be here.”

“I guess I need more practice,” Fjord says self-deprecatingly, punching the pillow attached to his bedroll in an attempt to appear nonchalant. 

“Aren’t we all always practising? Getting better? Always trying?” Caduceus muses, gazing out around them again, giving Fjord the space he needs without eyes on him. “How boring would life be if we knew the answers to everything already?” 

Fjord aches again. He would die if he lost this man. That light that Caduceus has brought into his life would be snuffed out, and Fjord would have nothing. 

Caduceus speaks again, his eyes still on the horizon. “There’s still time before the sun is up fully, you can go back to sleep.”

That’s the last thing he wants, really. But they’re either going to be walking for hours tomorrow or they’re going to be fighting and he needs more rest. Beau’s suggestion from the night before comes back to him, and Fjord sighs heavily. Not that Caduceus is ever going to shame him for anything he needs-

“May I come closer? It might help if I’m...I don’t know. To sleep.”

“Whatever you need, Fjord,” Caduceus says lightly, his gaze only now returning to the inside of the dome, sweeping over all of the sleeping bodies before they reach Fjord again. Fjord knows he means that absolutely. They’re all so selfish with Caduceus’...selflessness. 

He moves to Caduceus’ side and settles down once more, this time allowing himself to curl in towards the large, warm body next to him. If he’s going to do something then he’s going to take everything he can get, do it properly. 

As he drifts off he feels- Fjord feels the gentle stroke of fingers through his hair. Maybe it’s just twice, maybe it continues for a while, but knowing Caduceus is there next to him makes it a lot easier for sleep to come for Fjord. 

He sleeps deep and he sleeps well, coming to some time after the sun has properly begun to rise. Caduceus is speaking, and someone is moving around, and then Fjord realises belatedly that his arm is thrown over Caduceus’ legs and his head is tucked in against his thigh. 

“M’sorry,” he slurs slightly, sitting himself up and moving away as far as the space will allow, his brain barely awake before he’s apologising for himself. 

“It’s a small dome,” Caduceus says amicably, glancing over the space between them. “It’s difficult to not touch.” 

  
“Veth and Caleb always cuddle,” Beau says, standing over the both of them, stretching her arms above her head, letting all of her joints pop back into place. 

“It’s a habit. We had to keep each other warm in prison,” Veth counters as the others stir. 

“You wanna get in a work out whilst breakfast is going?” Beau asks Fjord, starting to bend herself into an enviable shape that is possibly meant to impress one of their number, though Fjord would never voice that speculation out loud. 

Despite the workout he’d done before bed Fjord convinces himself he is ready for another one. The good sleep and the lack of nightmares is surprisingly effective in boosting his mood. They move a little way away from the others so that Beau’s violent bullying doesn’t ruin their day before it’s even begun. 

“You took my advice,” she says when they’re just out of earshot. 

“What?” Fjord asks, trying to stretch as they go since Beau already has a bit of a headstart on him. 

“About moving closer to Caduceus. I told you he’d let you cuddle,” she replies, looking rather pleased with himself.

“I don’t think he knew that was part of the deal,” Fjord admits, pulling a knee up to his chest, then swapping to the other. “I was just moving in my sleep.”

Beau smiles that smile she does when she thinks she’s being clever. And she usually is. 

They walk and eat for lunch, because stopping just means this drawn out torture will last longer, but they’ve barely finished the last bit of their food-on-the-go when they find what they came looking for. 

The crater is so big it’s almost not possible to see the other side, even when they’re on it’s jagged lip. It’s not deep, though. And they can see the beacon right there, embedded in the stone in the centre as though it fell from the sky only days ago. Taunting them with it’s brazen display of openness. It’s not going to be that easy. It’s never that easy.

Veth tries to mage hand it at first, standing as close to the edge as she can, even though Caleb is standing there with his hand wrapped in the back of her shirt to hold her steady. But it’s too far. She then offers to go invisible, they can maybe transmorph and fly in and pick it up, Jester can use her door-

Maybe they’re talking too loudly though, because the next moment there are large, stony tentacles sweeping at them and they’re in combat. Stony tentacle monster. It probably doesn’t even know about the beacon wedged in it’s back or it’s head or whatever part that is. It’s just been disturbed and it’s not very happy about it. And it’s made of stone. So many of their hits don’t make it until it takes a double shot of Bane and slow. Caduceus is concentrating, and it’s difficult for him to stay within range and not get hurt, though his arm is up in front of him to try and shield himself, peering over the top to keep eyes on the creature.

Fjord can’t let his mind wander, can’t let his dreams mess with him. He has his blade, the gift from the Wildmother, and She’s looking after them both. And through Caduceus She’s looking after all of them. 

It’s exhausting. They all go down. All have moments where they are out of the fight and it takes their clerics to bring them back, blue light and green light their saving graces. Bane goes when Caduceus heals Beau, but he throws it back up again as soon as he can, the power of the spell’s debilitating effect more than making up for any input from the firbolg. 

Getting a hit in on something made of stone is really not easy. Aiming for the cracks and the existing breaks is all they can do, and it’s going to take a long time. 

Fjord wakes up to the warmth tingling through him that has become all too familiar. He doesn’t even remember going down. Doesn’t remember how he got here, and already the healing magic has made it impossible to pinpoint what got hit and how hard and with what. He can just feel the solid, dry dirt beneath his back, little pebbles digging in in different places. His eyes open and Caduceus has a soft smile even in this moment. 

“Welcome back,” he whispers, but then he’s gone, and the fight is continuing. 

_ Focus, Fjord _ , he tells himself, because if he doesn’t then they’re going to fail. He drags himself to his feet and doesn’t even bother to dust off before he’s throwing out three blasts of Eldrich energy, feeling oddly comforted by their green flashes.

It ends. Finally. Yasha finishes it with a frustrated scream, plunging one of her blades into one of the larger cracks on it’s back. It works. The sigh from all of them is audible. Fjord drops one knee for a moment, ignoring the warmth of blood sliding down his back from somewhere. It doesn’t hurt right now, there’s too much adrenaline. He’ll worry about it in a while once he’s caught his breath, each inhale ragged but soothing. 

_ Caduceus.  _ Fjord’s head whips around and for a moment his heart stops. Caduceus is on the ground about twenty five feet away and Fjord is up again, scrambling towards him before he’s even aware of the movement. 

“Deuces!” he yells, not noticing the other heads turning towards them, and not even registering Caduceus lifting his head to look at him until he’s there, gripping the firbolg’s armour, patting him down. 

“Hey, Fjord. Fjord-” gentle hands are cupping his cheeks and Caduceus’ is smiling at him. “Hey. It’s okay. We need to rest, yeah? That was a long one. Rest with me-” He somehow guides Fjord to sit on the ground next to him, sliding his fingers through Fjord’s hair, which eases his panic, makes his heart settle back down into his chest from where it had jumped to his throat. “There we go. Oh, hey-” Caduceus brings a hand back and it’s covered in blood. Fjord’s blood from that wherever wound. “I’m gonna do us a prayer of healing, get everyone patched up, then we’ll see if you need anything more, okay? Do you want to help me?”

“I- I’m not a cleric,” Ford whispers, his grip continues on Caduceus’ breastplate, as though letting him go is unfathomable, as though if he loosens his fingers he might lose him. 

“That’s okay, it never hurts to have more people channelling Her,” Caduceus smiles. “And you’ve been doing so well with your communing. Come on.” He pushes himself up to a sitting position, shuffling around so that he can see the whole party, all of whom are making their way closer, slowly, picking across the uneven dirt. Caduceus settled cross legged and facing Fjord, who mimics his position as he always does when they meditate or commune. 

What surprises him this time is that Caduceus takes his hands so gently that Fjord has to close his fingers around the cleric’s just to make sure it’s real. Caduceus squeezes back, a tiny smile on his lips though he doesn’t open his eyes. 

“Wildmother, I call upon you for your blessing, for your healing hand. Bestow upon me your light that I may pass it to those in need-” 

Fjord sighs, feeling the warmth begin to run through him. It feels like stepping into a warm bath, it laps over him, deep down to his bones. It’s different to the way Jester heals, which is more like energy and light and happiness. This is calm, soothing, peace. Fjord breathes in slowly, nothing hurts now. It’s such a wonderful feeling, it could be very addictive. He lets himself float. 

_ He’s sitting on the grass by a lake. It’s vast and clear, stretching out to the horizon as far as his eyes can see. In the shallows near where he sits the water laps gently at soft soil and stone, and reeds whisper slightly, though there is no breeze.  _

_ Beside him, Melora is sitting with Her legs stretched out, feet in the water that is also Hers. She’s looking at him, fondness and affection in Her expression. It’s a look Fjord has seen his friends get from their families, from mothers to their children, and it makes his chest ache for that thing he never had, though it’s being offered to him now.  _

_ “You still have so much weight on you, my child,” Melora says gently, reaching out Her hand to touch Fjord’s cheek. He leans into the touch, sighing deeply and searching for something to say in return. Anything. “Just put some of it down. You don’t need it. You hang on to things you don’t need. Unburden yourself. You will fly higher.” _

_ “I don’t know how to,” Fjord whispers, wanting some kind of solid answer, something to follow, a path lit up for him to walk down. _

_ She smiles at him, ever patient and loving. “You do. Don’t be scared to look at it.” _

Fjord blinks, it’s no more than a blink, but then he’s back in the wasteland. His hands are still held in Caduceus’, everyone else is around them, reclining on the hard ground or sitting and recovering in their own way. A lot of wounds are healed, movement is a little easier. 

He takes a deep breath. Caduceus is looking at him, his eyes half-lidded, a small smile on his lips. 

“You did well, Fjord,” the cleric tells him, squeezing their still-joined fingers. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course,” Fjord replies. “Any time.” 

  
  


They rest, and then Beau and Yasha climb down into the crater to retrieve the beacon, loosening it enough and bringing it near to the walls so that Veth can pull it up to safety. 

Caleb is wiped for spells and the energy to teleport, so once they’re all together again topside they pick up the beacon and walk a good half a mile or so away before they settle down underneath the dome, a spell slot always reserved for it. 

“I think we should take our long rest now. I know it’s still early,” he says, it being maybe an hour since they finished lunch and found their target. “But we can head home once I have recovered some spell slots. There’s no harm in taking some more time to recuperate.” Frumpkin pops into existence in Caleb’s lap, and there’s really no point in discussing anything more. Frumpkin’s purrs fill the otherwise silent space whilst they pull off their dented armour and take stock. They’re going to need to head to a blacksmith when they’re home. 

Fjord gets out his bedroll and climbs into it, early as it is. Caduceus is beside him, setting out the things he needs to make tea, looking down at Fjord fondly. 

“Do you want anything to drink before you sleep?”

Fjord shakes his head. His body feels exhausted, despite the healing spell and despite sleeping better the night before. Yasha is sitting up in her bedroll, though it seems to just be for comfort more than anything else. The rest of the party are just settled on the ground, leaning against their packs or sprawling in whatever space they can find. 

With his eyes closed he listens to the others talking for a while, voices low and soft with their tiredness. After a few minutes he hears Caduceus pouring tea and handing it around, quiet words of thanks following. The firbolg is close enough that Fjord could reach out and touch him with no effort, but he keeps his hands curled up beneath his covers and eventually drifts off. 

_ He’s in the ocean, up to his waist, and the water is warm. Like a bath. Like healing. Fjord looks down and it’s perfectly clear. He can see his feet and shells in the sand beside them. He’s naked. _

_ “This is all Hers too, you know?” Fjord turns his head and looks at Caduceus beside him. He’s lower down in the water, perhaps kneeling or just stooping, but low enough that the tips of his hair float on the surface, trailing behind him. “If Uk’atoa tries to convince you He is the lord of this then He is a liar.” Caduceus’ voice is gentle even as he accuses one of the gods of spreading misinformation. Drops of water cling to the fur on his chest, visible when he bobs up with the waves. Fjord is staring.  _

_ “I remember you said,” he manages to reply. “I didn’t realise She was here- I loved the water all this time and I didn’t realise it was Her calling to me- another coincidence.” _

_ Caduceus turns to look at him and smiles brightly, eyes kind and soft. “Oh Fjord, what did I say about coincidence?” It’s not a chastisement, it’s said with laughter.  _

_ “You just think this was destiny,” Fjord says playfully, wading closer to Caduceus. With him stooping they’re pretty much on eye level. “You think we’re each other’s destiny.” _

_ Beneath the water Caduceus’ fingers brush over his hip, and Fjord is very aware of his nakedness.  _ Their _ nakedness.  _

_ “I do. But I’m not asking you to agree.” _

_ “I do,” Fjord echoes, lifting his own wet fingers from the water, tracing the spiral shaved into the short hair on the side of Caduceus’ head. “I do agree.” _

_ “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Caduceus whispers, both hands now on Fjord’s hips. It’s a thrill. Fjord’s breath catches. “I don’t want you to think it has to mean-” _

_ “It means everything to me,” Fjord manages to reply, stepping closer, both hoping to encourage Caduceus’ touch and close more of the gap between them. Caduceus doesn’t move away, just gazes at Fjord with his brilliant, beautiful eyes. “You mean everything to me, Caduceus.” _

_ His other hand leaves the water to up Caduceus’ jaw, and he leans in, pleasantly surprised when the other man does the same- _

Fjord jolts up, getting looks from Veth and Yasha. Caleb is sleeping, Frumpkin curled up on his chest, and Jester is sitting near the wizard, reading. The beacon is on the floor in the centre of the dome looking very conspicuous (though there’s no one for a million miles to see), and trying not to look too panicked, Fjord glances around for Beau and Caduceus. 

“They went back to examine the thing we killed,” Yasha says before Fjord can ask. She’s toying with the braids Beau wove into it, still tucked into her bedroll.

“On their own? What if they- what if something happens?” he starts to climb out of his bedding, only to realise suddenly that he’s almost at half mast, and he slinks back under the covers again, wondering if his cheeks are as flushed as they feel. 

“Then Beau’ll punch it and Caduceus will whack it with his stick,” Veth replies, looking him up and down with curiosity. “Bad dream?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Fjord replies, peering out towards the crater and thinking he can make out the shape of two fingers in the distance. He really hopes he can. He really wishes they hadn’t gone. “How long have I been asleep?” 

“About four hours,” Yasha replies, turning to look in the same direction. “Caduceus and Beau might want to sleep when they get back, but when Caleb wakes up we can probably go home.”

“Okay,” Fjord replies, a little distracted and looking out at the two figures which are definitely coming closer. He feels marginally better. One figure is taller than the other. One has Beau’s swagger, even at this distance.

It takes longer than he’d like for the two of them to get back to the comfort of the dome, and if anyone notices him looking Caduceus over for any sign of harm then no one makes any comments. Beau gives a brief rundown of the rubble left behind, nothing else. They’d looked around for any sign of what had made the thing alive, but came up empty. 

“Did you sleep well?” Caduceus asks, taking his seat beside Fjord again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t know I was so tired.”

“We’ve been very busy. But we’ve done a wonderful thing. They’re going to be so happy to have another beacon back,” Caduceus continues cheerily, as though it’s the most simple thing, as though he lives for this. Maybe he does. “I’ll get the hot tub on when we get home.”

This time Fjord has tea, and in the space of an hour Caleb is awake, dropping the dome so that he has some space to draw the sigil that will take them back. 

They arrive back in Rosana and waste no time in going to deliver the beacon to the Bright Queen. As expected, she’s delighted. They’re heralded as saviours, as heroes of the dynasty. Given time they will be rewarded, she promises, but like Caduceus Fjord finds it’s enough to have just done it. The experience and the knowledge of what they’ve passed back is it’s own reward. 

That could mean anything, but the main thing is they’re back home, they’re safe, they’ve done a good thing. 

Caduceus gets the hot tub going when they get in, and then goes to make food whilst everyone else settles down and chills. 

“I don’t really know where we can put the food,” Caduceus says brightly when he comes in with several plates of sandwiches, his hair tied up in a loose bun above his head. He tries to balance things on whatever surfaces he can find, but mostly the plates are passed around and cleared off without needing anywhere safe to sit. Veth is perched on a bench away from the water and takes charge of protecting the sandwiches where necessary. 

“Caduceus, come and join in! It’s our reward!” Jester beams, scootching herself closer to Beau, making space between herself and Fjord. 

“I don’t know, I take up a lot of room,” Caduceus starts to protest with a chuckle.

“Nope, get in,” Jester demands, patting the water beside her and carelessly splashing Fjord. But if Jester demands something it’s very difficult to disagree.

Which Caduceus doesn’t. His armour long since abandoned in the comfort of their home, he lifts off his soft shirt, revealing his pale chest and some new muscles that are building. Then his cotton pants go. He leaves on his small clothes, which Fjord is relieved about, but they do very little to hide what Caduceus has… they’ve seen each other in various states of undress before…

Caduceus slips into the water beside him, their legs brushing all the way down. It sends a shiver through Fjord to feel it, the velvety softness of Caduceus’ skin against his own. But aside from that tension in his body, it really is relaxing. There are murmurs of conversation but it all peters out without being picked up for anything longer. Veth wonders out loud what their reward might be. Jester follows up a few minutes later musing about how many souls might have been in that beacon or if it’s brand new. Caduceus makes half a plan to go and get his armour hammered out tomorrow or maybe the day after or sometime soon.

There is, of course, tea after the hot tub, the sandwich plates put in the sink to be worried about tomorrow, and despite sleeping earlier Fjord is looking forward to being in his bed again soon. Now that they have somewhere permanent to sleep the floor is more unforgiving. Either that or Fjord is getting old. 

He waits up a little while, though. They lounge around in the happy room, having migrated from lounging in the water, and using it for its intended purpose, enjoying each others company and rewarding themselves some more. Jester is drawing, planning out something she wants to paint on the wall in here, whilst Beau reads one of her dirty books out loud, doing the voices and miming some of the actions. Laughing is as good a medicine as anything else, and anything kept coiled in their bones or joints releases as they listen to the terrible, flowery prose and the ridiculous descriptions. 

Fjord glances at Caduceus every so often, when the one woman show gets particularly detailed, aware of a flush in the firbolg’s cheeks but also noting that Caduceus laughs along with the rest of them, clearly following the risque antics. Something warm settles in his stomach, unsure of whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that Caduceus is suddenly a little more worldly, more understanding of the dirty things the rest of them know from experience or just being out among people. 

One by one the Nein all leave, disperse and make their way to their bedrooms. 

“Goodnight, Fjord,” Caduceus says as he starts up the last flight of stairs to his garden. 

Fjord smiles, leaning against the doorway. “Goodnight, Caduceus,” he replies. If it were raining he’d ask Caduceus to stay down here, perhaps. Protected from the elements. Come and crawl into bed with Fjord the way they did in the inns and taverns across Wildemount. 

“Sleep well,” Caduceus adds, not moving yet. 

“Sweet dreams,” Fjord returns, unable to think of any good reason aside from the truth to ask him to stay. 

“You too,” Caduceus smiles. And then winks. Fjord sees him wink, and he’s pretty sure he’s immediately hard. 

  
  


_ He stands in a woodland, grass soft and springy around his feet. Birds sing and insects hum. Everything around him is full of life. Breathing in, Fjord can almost taste it, the freshness, the comfort. Her. Everywhere. He can stretch out his hands and feel the warm air against his skin, touching his chest, tickling. Nothing but a thin pair of shorts cover him, cut off above the knee but comfortable, almost not there. _

_ “It’s perfect here,” Caduceus whispers from behind him.  _

_ Turning, Fjord looks down, glad of the breath he took because it leaves him in a rush when he sees Caduceus, spread out on the grass. His shirt is too big for him and spreads around his body, white and silken on the bright green grass. Beneath he wears a small pair of cotton shorts that ride too high on his thighs. Too high. Caduceus’ legs are long and toned but not overly muscular. Fjord is staring, hungry.  _

_ Caduceus’ pink hair is fanned out around him too, spread there on the floor like an offering. For the Wildmother. His body, for Her. His body on the earth to do good things in Her name.  _

_ “Beautiful. So- so fucking beautiful,” Fjord whispers, not bothering to pretend he’s looking at anything else. What else in the world could he look at that would be as amazing as the man stretched before him? He can feel tingles all through him, warmth pooling in his stomach, moving south.  _

_ Caduceus turns his head and looks at him. “Come here.” _

_ It’s such a gentle suggestion, and Fjord is quite sure that it’s all but whispered to him, but to think that Caduceus is commanding his presence, demanding his attention- Fjord loves it. He goes without hesitation, sinking onto his knees on the soft, welcoming ground at Caduceus’ side. Now he’s closer he can see all of the details of the body before him, the dips of muscles and bones, every inch covered in that fine, velvety fur. Caduceus’ hips are sharp, the bumps of his ribs visible under his shirt where the fabric rests against his skin. There have never been real moments to just pause and look, to enjoy, especially in the bright light where nothing is hidden away. So Fjord looks, drinks in the finer details, makes a mental map of the scars he can see. _

_ “Touch me,” Caduceus whispers.  _

_ Fjord’s head jerks around, attention torn from Caduceus’ body to his face where long-lashed eyes gaze back at him. There’s heat in them. It’s a different look for Caduceus, tinged with want and desire. Fjord swallows, mouth dry whilst his hands are sweaty, his heart thumping, his pulse hard through him. And between his legs.  _

_ “Say that again,” Fjord rasps, wanting to make sure he wasn’t just imagining it, that his desperate brain wasn’t just making things up.  _

_ Caduceus smiles, lifting his fingers from where they were stretched out in the grass and taking Fjord’s hand in his own. “Touch me, Fjord.” He’s gentle in his guidance, leading Fjord’s fingers to his chest, leading them in a path over his sternum, down to his belly, then up again. Fjord swallows again, but he’s pretty sure he’s got it, keeping to the path mapped out for him. On the second pass he sees the slight tenting between Caduceus’ legs. His own cock is fully erect beneath his thin shorts.  _

_ Fjord has a free hand, he realises, placing it on Caduceus thigh. He receives a soft sigh in response, a shiver running through the skin beneath his fingers. He inches them up, letting out a groan when his cleric’s legs part. Another offering.  _

_ “Tell me again-” Fjord requests, breathlessly.  _

_ “Touch me,” Caduceus whispers, his voice trembling. _

_ Fjord wants to go slow, to ease them both into it, but that tremble consumes his resolve. His fingers slide up and press against Caduceus’ cock, stroking up its whole length. Caduceus is so big, the hunger comes back tenfold, though Fjord doesn’t know what he’s hungry for. To touch, to hear the sounds Caduceus makes, to taste him, to push inside him. To be filled- that stretch would be incredible.  _

_ Caduceus sighs sweetly, lifting his hips up to meet the pressure, to meet Fjord’s hand. The temptation to push all of the fabric away and touch properly, stroke until this beautiful creature falls apart for him- _

_ “I was waiting for you,” Caduceus whispers. “For this.” _

_ “For me?” Fjord isn’t that special. But he likes the feeling it gives him. Unworthy and selfish, he’s going to enjoy the way pleasure at the words curls warm inside his chest.  _

_ Caduceus fucking purrs, and Fjord runs his hand up his length once more, drawing such sweet noises out of him. Sounds he doesn’t think anyone else has heard. Sounds just for him. _

_ “I’ve never felt so special,” Fjord whispers, continuing the motion up and down Caduceus’ cock, the hard length twitching at his touch. “Never felt as special as I did when you found me, and you saw me, and you decided I was worth your time.” _

_ “We found each other-” _

  
  
  


Fjord wakes up. He’s in his bed alone. 

“No,” he almost sobs. “No. No.” It isn’t fair. He’s achingly hard.  _ No _ . 

His hand disappears beneath the sheets to wrap around his cock. It feels small in comparison to Caduceus’, at least how he felt in his dream, the hard heat that he’d been touching so recently, real or not. Fjord strokes his fist up and down, hips twitching, his other hand moving down and dipping beneath his balls. It’s been a long time since he touched himself here, but he can’t get the image of Caduceus pushing between his legs out of his mind. Fjord’s thighs spread wide to fit him, the way it would burn so nicely with the stretch. More than three fingers, he’s sure of that. Caduceus would get so deep, much deeper than he can reach from this angle. He trembles, two fingers pressed inside him, spreading them apart to open himself up, making his muscles tense needily.

He comes within a few seconds. He bites his tongue because he doesn’t really know how thick the walls are and he really doesn’t want to test that by screaming Caduceus’ name as he paints his stomach, clenching on his fingers that aren’t thick enough to satisfy him.

Fjord feels a little guilty at the nature of his dream, at taking advantage of dream Caduceus, and then imagining  _ his friend _ fucking him. 

He doesn’t feel any better when he gets up to work out with Beau, and he knows she notices that something is up, but for once she doesn’t push it for which Fjord is thankful. It’s not something he’s sure he knows how to put into words, even if he thinks that Beau, of all people, would understand his weakness.

The guilt is still heavy in his chest afterwards when he goes downstairs for breakfast and sees Caduceus there, still soft from sleep, hair still ruffled from bed, sitting at the kitchen table. There are voices elsewhere in the house, other people are awake, but no one has made it here yet. Or at least haven’t settled here yet. Two kettles are heating up, though there is already a cup on the table, held between long, grey fingers that Fjord has been thinking about almost as much.

“Good morning, Fjord,” Caduceus says, voice roughened through lack of use. “Breakfast is cooking, give it a few more minutes.”

Fjord nods silently, looking around the room because he doesn’t want Caduceus to see in his face that he both had a dirty dream about Caduceus and then jerked off to it. “Great. Cool. Thanks.” Everything is neatly in its place, there’s nothing he can do with himself for a distraction.

“Did you sleep well?” Caduceus asks, bringing his drink up to sip from. 

“Mhm,” Fjord continues, trying to think of an excuse to leave the room. He could just walk out. Caduceus wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t think it rude. He could just leave and wait for the others to fill up the kitchen and then join them.

“How was your work out?”

“Good, yeah-” his eyes, on their rapid flicker around the room, breeze past Caduceus, who is looking at him, chin propped up on one hand, not hiding the way his own gaze is roaming. 

“It’s really making a difference,” Caduceus adds, seemingly pointedly looking at Fjord’s chest and then his arms, finally meeting his eyes. “You look good.”

Fjord feels himself flush. And he knows Caduceus notices. “I mean, I had a little bit of divine intervention,” he says, trying to play it off even as he feels his biceps flex unconsciously and sees the smirk on Caduceus’ face, the firbolg’s eyes dropping back down to the traitorous muscles. 

“Once, sure. The rest has been all you.”

Fjord opens his mouth and fails to find something to say, but it seems as though breakfast is ready, because with one last bright smile Caduceus turns around and goes to the oven, beginning to pull out a few trays of bread and vegetables, setting them out in bowls and allowing Fjord to escape his scrutiny. 

They’re going to be hanging around the Xhorhaus for a little while, it seems. Usually there’s only a night, maybe two, spent at home, but right now they have no idea how long they’re going to be here. Of course they could head off somewhere and Essek could contact them to come back. But Fjord thinks everyone is kind of glad for the respite. 

It is nice to have a day doing nothing, to wander around Rosana and take in the shops and the people, do some actual shopping, stock up on things. Read. Work out. Caduceus cooks a lot - lunch, dinner, snacks - and then starts reading another of Jester’s now extensive collection of terrible literature, sitting with it in the Happy room in the evenings after dinner, working his way through it slowly. Beau spends some time beside him, writing in her notebook whilst Jester draws on the floor at her feet. Yasha, too, is reading, her brow furrowed in concentration. Veth and Caleb have locked themselves away in the lab. It’s peaceful. Fjord hopes that having nothing going on during the day will leave him with dreamless sleep, or at least more manageable dreams-

He’s wrong. 

_ He’s freezing cold, and it takes a moment for him to realise he’s underwater. Already Fjord can feel fear prickling all over him, goosebumps and pins and needles. He looks around and for the moment he can’t make anything out, just the dark, greenish water all around him. The surface is distant, he thinks he see the water getting lighter, waves catching the sun. But it’s as far as anything else seems right now. He turns in circles under the water, a foot or so above the bed, until he sees a glint of something in the near distance.  _

_ Fjord swims towards it, and the closer he gets the heavier the water feels. The glint, the light, flickers, and at length he realises it’s because there’s weeds in the way. Long green weeds that reach up further than Fjord can see, some as thick as his arm. He pushes through them, forces them aside like pushing vines in a jungle, and he’d be breaking a sweat if that were possible. Then finds his destination.  _

_ Caduceus is bound in the weeds. They’re wrapped around his arms and legs, around his chest, around his throat. His eyes are open but they don’t seem to be seeing, glazed oven though the pink is vibrant under the water. A bubble slips between his lips, the only sign Fjord has that he’s still alive.  _

_ “I only brought you here to see this,” a voice says, low, hissing. Fjord doesn’t see where or who it comes from but he knows. He hears it in his head and it makes nausea curl in his stomach. “I want you to watch.” _

_ “No, please-” Fjord starts, though he knows there’s no good in that. He knows it won’t make any difference. Pleading or begging or reasoning. _

_ The weeds tighten their grip, bubbles pour from Caduceus’ mouth. His hair wafts gently out around his head, delicate. Fragile. _

_ “He led you away to his light and now his light will go out.” _

_ “No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Fjord tries to yell, beg, but his voice is no more than a whisper. “I’ll come back. I’ll come back to you-” _

_ “No. I don’t need you anymore. I only brought you here to see this.” _

_ Fjord tries to summon the falchion but nothing happens. He tries to run forward but it’s suddenly like moving through molasses. He can’t move enough, he can’t reach Caduceus. He can’t save him.  _

_ “Say goodbye.” _

_ “No!” _

_ The weeds squeeze tighter and in a blink they are blades, the familiar curve and colour of his old falchion, and Fjord watches Caduceus die, his blood staining the water deep, deep red. _

_ He tries to scream but he’s just drowning. _

  
  


Fjord leans over the bed and tries to vomit, expecting the salt water but just tasting bile. His throat hurts, his chest hurts, everything is a blur of pain. He can feel the sweat sliding down his back and his temples, his skin prickling. 

Warm hands cup his face, fingers run through his hair, and blindly Fjord reaches out to grab for whoever is there, wanting them to save him. They let him draw them closer, his head pressing against a warm stomach. 

There are voices, far away and muffled. He feels like he’s still underwater. 

“Is he okay? Should we do something?” distant female voice.

Fjord can’t bring himself to open his eyes, not until he’s steadied his breathing. 

“I thought he was done with this-” male voice. 

“I’ve got him, don’t worry,” the voice of the body above him rumbles, sending vibrations through Fjord whilst gentle fingers still card through his hair. “Go back to bed. I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Caduceus,” Fjord rasps, barely making a noise. His throat hurts. But he doesn’t have to be too loud. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Caduceus whispers, making no move to step away, giving Fjord as much time as he needs to pull himself together. 

Fjord’s eyes burn, and the heat of the tears on his cheeks is almost painful. He turns his head, resting his cheek against Caduceus’ stomach, hearing the faint drum of his heart further up in his chest. 

“May I sit down?” 

Fjord nods, reluctantly drawing back, shaking with fear or cold or adrenaline he doesn’t know, but Caduceus never breaks contact with him, keeps stroking his hair as he settles down onto the bed, drawing Fjord to his side and holding his head to his chest where Fjord can hear his heartbeat louder and stronger. He’s very alive. Warm where their skin touches.

“I have no healing powers to help you with this,” Caduceus whispers. “And I’m so sorry for that. I wish I had more-I wish I could take it away, make them stop.”

“This is fine. This is good,” Fjord’s words slur as he speaks, wondering at how Caduceus is always there to help, how he would give every bit of his power to help. Fjord is so undeserving of him, but he selfishly needs to take this, hold onto him. 

“I’m sorry if you feel the Wildmother let you down-” Caduceus continues sadly, as though it’s his responsibility, as though he were the one letting Fjord down. 

“I didn’t even- I didn’t even think to call Her,” Fjord admits, his fingers running slowly up and down Caduceus’ ribs, kept from his full touch by only a thin shirt. It keeps him focused, keeps him right here in the moment, reminds him that Caduceus is here. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve no need to apologise. I just worry you’re having those dreams again. I know this isn’t the first recently. I’d hoped-” Caduceus’ voice is heavy with his sadness. “I’d hoped He’d leave you alone now. I’m so sorry-”

Fjord lifts his head. They’re going to be apologising back and forth, it seems, but he can’t let this weigh on Caduceus. 

  
  


He lifts his hand, bereft though he is to stop touching the body he’s pressing against and, touching Caduceus’ chin, turns him so that their eyes can meet. 

“If I flex my arm muscles for you will you feel better?”

Caduceus looks at him so sincerely for a second that Fjord thinks his joke has fallen completely flat, but then there’s a quirk at the corner of his lips. 

“Yes, I really think it would,” he replies, his eyes shining mischievously. It’s a good look on him, Fjord thinks. A learned look, but one that somehow fits. 

Fjord grins back, the weight of his nightmare lifting from him as though Caduceus had picked it up and moved it to the side. He leans away, again with reluctance, and does as he offered, flexing his biceps in a handful of poses, the two of them giggling together. Fjord isn’t that confident he’s putting on a good show, but between huffs of laughter Caduceus is looking him over, eyes moving across the swell of muscles that Fjord doesn’t really credit himself for.

“You’re very- you’re-” Caduceus stutters over his words and seems to give up, rolling his eyes and himself and looking away a little bashfully. 

Fjord settles again, waiting a heartbeat before he rests against Caduceus’ side once more. Another heartbeat and he moves his arm around to resume the stroke of his fingers up and down the still-too-prominent ribs. 

Caduceus’ hand is on his back, initially just rubbing the centre of his spine, then moving up to rest between his shoulder blades and then, after a brief hesitation, they slide up the back of his neck and return to Fjord’s hair. 

“The dreams aren’t all- that was the first one about Uk’atoa,” Fjord whispers, closing his eyes to focus on the touch. “The first one in a very long time. The others have just been bad. I’ve been helpless- I’ve been- unable to help.” He doesn’t want to elaborate, but he also knows Caduceus isn’t going to ask or push.

“We’re very vulnerable when we sleep. It’s far more difficult to protect ourselves when we don’t know what to armour ourselves against. The worlds inside our heads are unfathomable, and our brains know us better than anything, they know what we fear, and what we love, and they make us face things we shouldn’t have to,” Caduceus sighs, a sigh so heavy it seems as though he’s taken on the responsibility of Fjord’ unruly brain and doesn’t quite know how to fix it. 

Fjord loves him. Hopelessly. 

  
  


Caduceus shifts slightly, resting his chin on Fjord’s head. 

“I wish there was more I could do to protect you as you sleep. Perhaps we can meditate before bed? It might put you in a better place in your head. I could get Jester to message my mom and ask if there’s any tea I can use to make you sleep without dreaming-”

“Not all of my dreams are bad,” Fjord replies quietly, remembering the few  _ very _ good ones he’s had of late. He lifts his head. “Maybe some meditation with you will help, though,” he sighs, his shoulders rising with the inhale. “Again, I’m asking you to help me.”

“I’m offering-” Caduceus replies easily, his fingertips raking lightly over Fjord’s scalp.

“And I’m just taking,” Fjord retorts, even as he sits there now with Caduceus’ stroking his fingers through his hair to comfort him, taking it without protest. 

“Would you like to meditate now?” Caduceus asks, brushing his fingers behind Fjord’s ear and making him shiver bodily.

Fjord shakes his head, not needing much time to think. He wouldn’t be able to focus right now, it would be a terrible waste of Caduceus’ time.. “No. Would you just sleep down here with me? Just for tonight?” in case Caduceus does think he’s asking too much. Just for tonight doesn’t sound too needy. 

“Of course,” Caduceus nods, standing up for a moment to give Fjord the space to lay down. Fjord takes it, pressing himself as close to the wall as he can to make room for his rather large firbolg friend. 

Caduceus settles down once it’s his turn. Normally they sleep back to back, but this time he’s here for Fjord. “How would you like me to lay?”

Fjord would love to tell him to lay facing him so that he can fall asleep looking at Caduceus’ face, count his eyelashes, feel his gentle breath against his lips. But he’s not that selfish, despite knowing that Caduceus would oblige him. Fjord isn’t going to force him to indulge all of his shameless whims. 

“Can I spoon you?” he asks instead. Okay, a few of his shameless whims, but not all of them. Caduceus has seen the others cuddle as they sleep, wrapping around each other, and Fjord doesn’t think it would be too far-fetched to assume the cleric doesn’t know it can be pretty intimate. “Your back to my front? Would that be okay?”

“Of course,” Caduceus agrees, shifting onto his side and shifting until his back is pressed against Fjord’s chest. Fjord wraps his arm around Caduceus, resting his fingers where the beat of the other man’s heart is strongest. He feels the deep, contented sigh of his companion, and smiles. 

“I woke everyone up, didn’t I?” he whispers after a few moments. 

“They worry about you,” comes the soft rumble of a reply.

“You’re always so polite about the truth,” Fjord chuckles lightly, his breath stirring a little bit of fur on the back of Caduceus’ neck. “Did I wake  _ everyone _ ?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Caduceus replies, honest but gentle. “I should have asked if you wanted one of the others to stay instead. I’m sorry-”

“No. No, I’m glad it’s you,” Fjord replies quickly, tracing a little shape on the thin cotton beneath his fingers, the warmth of Caduceus’ skin coming through.

“Good,” Caduceus sounds genuinely relieved. “I’m glad I can take care of you.”

Fjord didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep again, prepared to lay here and listen to Caduceus breathe, and feel the steady, gentle thump of Caduceus’ heart. His knees fit against Caduceus’ thighs, and he can feel the curve of Caduceus’ bottom against his belly and it’s fine. It’s fine. 

_ Caduceus is laying on the grass again in the brilliant green of the meadow, his hair fanned out around him. His shirt is missing this time, and there’s a radiant smile on his face.  _

_ Fjord sits astride his thighs, his fingers drawing spirals against the soft grey fur on Caduceus’ hips, inches from his hard cock.  _

_ Caduceus is huge, and Fjord is delirious with joy. He’s the first person who gets to touch, who gets to see Caduceus in the throes of passion and want. This is the happiest Fjord has ever felt.  _

_ Slim, pale fingers dance over his thighs, making goosebumps bloom all over Fjord’s skin. His own cock is also painfully hard, and he just doesn’t know what he wants to do. He doesn’t know what he wants first.  _

_ “You’re looking at me so seriously, Fjord,” Caduceus whispers, the most beautiful smile on his face.  _

_ “I’m trying to work out what I want to do to you first,” Fjord replies, grinning back, his touch teasing closer to the base of Caduceus’ erection.  _

_ “First, touch me,” Caduceus replies. “And then we’ll see what I can do for you.” _

_ Fjord takes in the whole of Caduceus’ length again, and feels the very unfamiliar ache of wanting to be filled by it. It’s been so long, so, so long.  _

_ For now, though, he’s happy to comply with his initial instruction, wrapping his fingers around Caduceus’ cock and stroking up and down slowly. There are ridges on the underside of it that make Fjord’s heart skip a beat. Beneath him Caduceus arches slightly, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting in a sigh. The first person to touch him.  _

_ “You’re really- fuck, Caduceus,” Fjord laughs, deep and rough as he rubs his thumb over the leaking tip. “You’re gorgeous. I’m so lucky.” _

_ “What would make you feel good?” Caduceus whispers. _

_ “No, this isn’t about me. This is for you. You do enough for me. Making you come will be enough. Hearing my name on your lips will make me feel good.” _

_ “Fjord,” Caduceus chuckles breathlessly. It’s not a moan but Fjord feels it anyway. It’s just his name that does it, regardless of how it’s said. “As many times as you want.” _

_ Fjord grins and starts to stroke with more earnest, admiring the way his fingers can barely touch around the girth, licking his lips and moving his hips moving slowly, grinding against the air. _

_ “Do you want me to touch you?” Caduceus asks, moving his fingers to Fjord’s cock without waiting for a reply. Fjord gasps out a groan, his hips stuttering, pushing into the gentle grip. “It feels good for me. I hope- I hope-” his hand is inexperienced at touching another person, but Caduceus is obviously familiar with the movement, which fills Fjord with all kinds of wonderful thoughts of what Caduceus is doing when none of them are watching. _

_ “I want to ride you,” Fjord whispers, though he’s pretty sure he’s going to come before they get around to that.  _

_ Caduceus’ bright face is looking up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Are you not?” _

_ Fjord purrs. “With this-” he squeezes Caduceus’ length, smiling as Caduceus writhes again. “-inside me.” _

_ Caduceus’ eyes fly open, and Fjord sees a spurt of precome leak over his fingers. It’s so beautiful. He made that happen with just his words. _

_ “I want that,” Caduceus gasps. “I want to feel that- oh-” His strokes on Fjord’s cock are erratic and alternating speeds, but it’s incredible, the right amount of rough and easy, keeping the fire burning deep in Fjord’s belly. _

_ “You’re doing wonderfully, Deucey,” he murmurs, slowly canting his hips to try and regulate the rhythm. “I want you, you have no idea-” _

_ “I have a little bit of an idea,” is the breathless reply, and Fjord could sit here and drink in that expression for the rest of his life, the half closed eyes and fluttering lashes, the flushed cheeks and teeth worrying a bottom lip that Fjord wants to take into his mouth. He can feel the ache between his legs, that want to be filled up again, to feel the stretch. “-Fjord, please-” _

_ “Yes, Deucey-” _

Fjord wakes up with a start, his fingers balled in the front of Caduceus’ shirt, his hips pressing against the cleric’s backside, rubbing his cock against the cleft between his cheeks.

Oh. Fuck. 

He freezes. Beneath his hand Caduceus’ heart is hammering. He’s awake. 

“Oh-”

“Fjord?”

They speak over each other. 

“I’m so sorry,” Fjord whispers, starting to move away, withdrawing all contact. He feels sick now, and it’s great at killing his libido. 

Caduceus shifts around until he’s laying on his back, and Fjord wants to move further, melt through the wall and escape. The cleric’s eyes are wide. 

“Caduceus, I’m so sorry-”

“Did you say my name?” Caduceus’ voice is very quiet, trembling. 

Fjord wants to lie, wants to just curl up and hope a giant worm pinpoints his room, bursts up through the several floors, and devours him. 

“Fjord, please-”

Caduceus has never denied him anything, and Fjord really can’t deny him this now. 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head. He brings a hand up to rub over his face. He’s never felt this bad, this  _ guilty _ , and that really is saying something. 

“Okay,” Caduceus nods too, shifting his weight on the bed again. In a moment he’s crowding Fjord against the wall. The first press of his lips falls short and grazes Fjord’s cheek, but then he gets his aim right and, though it’s not particularly graceful, their mouths smeer against each other. Fjord’s heart skips, and maybe this is another dream but he really doesn’t care. Lifting his hands to fist them into Caduceus’ hair, Fjord guides his head to a slightly better angle so that their lips meet properly. Caduceus hums, a rumble all the way through his body that Fjord feels in his soul. 

They pull back to breathe, Fjord’s eyes wide, searching Caduceus’ face for any kind of sign of...anything. Of what this means, of what’s happening. But Caduceus is just smiling, his eyes dark and half lidded, his lips swollen. 

“Decuey, talk to me, just for a moment, cos gods know I don’t know how long I can hold back from more of that.”

“I- uh- I want to keep kissing you, Fjord,” Caduceus replies, though it seems forming sentences isn’t easy. “Uh- I just- when you were sleeping I could feel you and I- I just wanted to know- just needed to know it was me-”

“Yeah, oh,” Fjord chuckles. “Yeah, it’s all you.” He nods, breathless, looking Caduceus up and down. “It’s been you for a long time.” His fingers dance over Caduceus’ undercut, bumping their noses together, desperate to kiss him again. “I’ve had such beautiful dreams about you-” and terrible ones. Terrible, terrible dreams, but they seem laughable and distant now that Caduceus is warm and breathing and so alive pressed up against him. 

“Show me.” Caduceus pushes his hands slowly under Fjord’s shirt, feeling his skin, pressing with interest against the abs that, whilst hidden slightly under some softness, are firmer than they used to be. Fjord flexes them, feeling Caduceus smile. 

“What do you want me to show you?” Fjord asks, lighting his mouth on the corner of Caduceus’ lips. 

“What we did in your dreams,” Caduceus replies, hands moving upwards, higher, reaching one of Fjord’s nipples and brushing a thumb over it teasingly. 

Fjord huffs out a breath that is both laughter and moan, moving a hand to Caduceus’ hip to give him some leverage to flip the two of them over. Caduceus is on his back and Fjord, in one smooth movement, is straddling him. 

“This one resembled something like this,” he says, sliding his hands up beneath the shirt hiding the other man’s body from him. “But with less clothes.”

Wriggling just slightly, Caduceus pulls up his shirt and drops it over the side of the bed. Fjord has seen- well, they’ve  _ all _ seen each other dressed and undressed to most degrees, and all of them have been raised in environments where nudity isn’t anything to be ashamed of. There’s a difference, though, to seeing someone out of the corner of your eye as they pass by, or change clothes, or get into a bath, and being able to stare. Now he gets to drink in all of Caduceus’ upper body, pale though slightly coloured by his grey fur which feels incredible under Fjord’s fingers as they roam over his chest. There are a few patches where there is no fur, where there are white scars of wounds obviously left unhealed too long,, but his body is beautiful. 

Fjord follows the path down from Caduceus’ face, fascinated by the slightly thicker almost lilac coloured fur in the centre of Caduceus’ chest and leading down from his navel. His fingers dance around between the cleric’s pecs, then trail down over too-prominent ribs.

“By Melora-” Fjord breathes out. “She made you perfectly.”

Caduceus chuckles, flushed and bashful again. “I already know how She has blessed you. Even before She rebirthed you-”

“But you’re a fan of the muscles, hm?” Fjord teases, leaning down with the intention of a brief kiss, but Caduceus’ fingers are at the back of his head, holding him down so that he can kiss him deeply. His other hand is pulling Fjord’s shirt up, though it’s a little awkward in this position, and with reluctance they separate just so that there’s more skin, so that more clothes are on the floor. 

Fjord’s pants are tented, although he sees no reason to hide it now. He looks down and sees the thick outline between Caduceus’ legs, feeling the ache to be filled welling up in him again. He licks his lips without thinking, and then tries to reason himself back to a more rational mindset just for the moment. 

“We’ll go at your pace, okay? Whatever we do is gonna be at your pace-” Fjord whispers, fingers itching to strip and then press against Caduceus, to hear him make sweet noises as he did in his dream. 

“Thank you,” Caduceus says sincerely, his smile soft and sweet. “I’m looking forward to learning everything. All about you,” his voice dips slightly at the end, his own fingers tracing up and down Fjord’s thighs, not quite brave enough to move them closer, although his eyes are fixed firmly on Fjord’s cock pressing against the fabric containing it. 

Caduceus, Fjord has no doubt, is going to take him apart and put him back together over and over. Read every space in between and commit them to memory. He shivers with the pleasure of the thought, taking the opportunity to run his fingers lightly over Caduceus’ length, watching the man beneath him buck up and shiver in turn. 

This whole scenario is so unhurried, so easy, there’s time to indulge in all of those little shivers and sounds, to bask in knowing that he’s making his partner feel good from touching and teasing, and there’s no pressure. Fjord hasn’t gone to bed with someone like this for- years. Years and years since he last got the chance to be slow and gentle, to take his time. His last lovers have all demanded and taken and been satisfied, yes, but it isn’t enough for Fjord. This is everything and so much more. In addition he has this warmth flowing through him, this love for the person he’s with, which is an experience just as unusual and far back in his memory as the slow pace and tender explorations. 

And to be loved back…

One of Caduceus’ hands lifts, cupping the side of Fjord’s face for a moment, and then sliding around the back of his neck, pulling him down gently. Fjord goes of course, touching their lips together before they sink into a deeper kiss. Caduceus strokes his hair so gently, and Fjord cants his hips slowly without thinking, rubbing their erections together. The kiss breaks with a gasp from both of them, and Fjord is really rather smug that he gets to do this. That this is all for him. 

Fjord leans back. He doesn’t want to stop kissing but he wants to get rid of the last two items of their clothing. Caduceus’ are easy enough to remove, Fjord’s fingers hook into the waistband and drag down, giving him the wondrous view of Caduceus naked and hard. 

He really is huge. His cock has ridges on the underside just as Fjord had dreamt, and the head flares out, and whilst Fjord knew he liked guys and he liked dick, this is love. 

He forgets that he needs to take his own underwear off, it’s not important for the moment. He’s hyper focused on Caduceus. Leaning down, Fjord runs his tongue up the hot, hard length, feeling the ridges as he goes. The body beneath him arches and purrs, a low rumble rolling through the cleric that makes Fjord shiver. His tongue reaches the head and he hums as it fills his mouth. Fjord sucks. Caduceus bucks his hips again and cries out softly. 

“You’re absolutely magnificent,” Fjord whispers, his voice trembling with the emotion of it all. He draws back and leans up, kissing Caduceus’ belly, delighting in the soft fur under his lips, and then lowering his head again to take Caduceus back into his mouth. He’s had plenty of other visions of how their first time together would go, but in the moment he’s just greedy, wanting everything right now, and all he can focus on is how he can make this so good that Caduceus will never need anyone or anything else. 

Fjord feels two lots of fingers slide through his hair, gently encouraging. He can feel Caduceus trembling beneath him, shivering with pleasure as Fjord’s mouth moves up and down slowly, indulging in the bumps that would feel so fucking good moving inside him. But that’s for another time. His hands massage Caduceus’ thighs, which spread a little further, more of an offering, as though Fjord weren’t already painfully turned on. 

“Don’t stop,” he hears Caduceus pant, as if there’s any risk of that happening. Fjord isn’t stopping until he tastes everything. One hand leaves Caduceus’ thigh and drifts lower, brushing over his balls and then lower. Because he’s greedy. His dreams haven’t taken him this far, but his imagination has. And perhaps so has Caduceus’, because he draws his knees up, opening himself up for Fjord’s touch.

Fjord is surprised he doesn’t come all over himself right then and there. His heart is hammering in his chest and he can feel his pulse heavy between his legs as he touches, lets his fingers brush over Caduceus’ entrance and feels the muscle flutter. All the while his mouth is still working up and down Caduceus’ cock, enjoying the periodic escalation in taste with the increase of precome. 

Caduceus is making sweet, desperate noises now, hips moving on the bed, not quite pushing into Fjord’s mouth but definitely pushing down onto his finger. Fjord just circles slowly around his rim, pleased with the reactions he’s getting and looking forward to the time he’ll find out what sounds Caduceus makes as he’s filled up. 

“I’m close, Fjord.”

Fjord moans his approval and begins to pick up speed, which in turn makes Caduceus louder. His fingers are tugging at Fjord’s hair, which is wonderful, and his thighs tremble. LIfting his eyes, Fjord watches Caduceus’ face, watches the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and his lips are parted to drag in harsh breaths. A sharper tug to his hair feels like a warning to pull back, but Fjord isn’t going to miss this. He’s going to finish what he started. 

The heat explodes in his mouth, and all of Caduceus’ quakes, writhes on the bed as he orgasms. His cock thickens noticeably between Fjord’s lips, drawing another moan from him at the thought of Caduceus’ already large length swelling inside him. 

_ Fuck _ . 

Fjord pulls back with a gasp - the fingers have since slackened in his hair - watching as still more come spurts over Caduceus’ soft grey belly. Fjord’s cock aches, and as much as he wants to do a hundred thousand other things it’s not going to happen right now. He reaches down, shoving his hands into his underwear to wrap his fingers around himself, shivering at the relief of just a simple touch. 

“I’m gonna come on you, Deuces. I can’t- I’m too close-” he regrets it, wishing he could last longer, but also he really wants to come. It’s going to be really good.

Caduceus laughs breathlessly, his hands dropping to Fjord’s thighs. “Mark me, then. I want to feel you all over me.”

He has a filthy mouth for someone so innocent, Fjord thinks, and that’s another wonderful surprise. He leans forward, bracing his weight on one arm, the muscles of the other flexing as he jerks himself off, eyes roaming hungrily all over Caduceus who is wonderfully naked and gazing heatedly back at him. It takes no more than half a minute before Fjord cries out, his orgasm cresting sudden and hard, his whole body shaking with pleasure. He manages to crack his eyes open enough to watch himself coat Caduceus’ stomach, seeing the firbolg’s cock twitch with interest again. 

Fjord’s arm is about to give out, so he allows himself to flop down beside Caduceus, back into the space he had previously been occupying. Both of them are breathing heavily, and when Fjord presses his hand to Caduceus’ chest he can feel the frantic thumping of his heart that matches his own. 

“You good?” Caduceus asks softly, turning his head towards Fjord once the two of them have caught their breath. His voice sounds like melted chocolate. 

“So good,” Fjord replies, leaning in to brush their lips together. The kiss is returned, though it is briefer than Fjord would have liked. But of course this is a new thing for Caduceus. Fjord needs to be careful and gentle and take care of this man, treasure him, make sure he knows how amazing and valued he is. “Are you?” 

It takes longer than he’d like for Caduceus to reply, too, and even though there’s eventually a nod it’s not a lot of confirmation. 

“Hey, Deucey-” Fjord shifts to drape himself slightly over the warm body beside him. “-This isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about you. This isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about us doing something like this. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve thought about kissing you, or holding you. I don’t want this to be the last, either.” He takes a breath, wobbling a little over his speech, over the words he has never said to another person. “I’ve dreamt about losing you as much as I’ve dreamt about this, and I can’t do it. They’re the worst dreams I’ve ever had. I can’t be without you. My heart couldn’t take being without you.”

“Well, we can probably make sure your heart doesn’t have to suffer,” Caduceus whispers, a smile curving at the corners of his lips, his eyes soft and warm as he gazes into Fjord’s with shameless openness. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t lose me.”

It’s a big, scary world out there, they both know it. And maybe it’s going to be scarier now there’s a little more a t stake. But they’ve come this far, and if they’re going to die sooner rather than later, Fjord doesn’t want to deny either of them this chance to be happy.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm available for squeeing and nonsense on Discord - Tulikettu#0322
> 
> Stay safe, take care of yourselves, be kind to each other.


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